


Mutually-Assured Destruction

by unknowabledreamer (DrowningInStarlight)



Series: On loyalty and kings [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Book 2: The Dream Thieves, Joseph Kavinsky is His Own Warning, Multi, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/unknowabledreamer
Summary: During the day, Henrietta belonged to its people. The parents holding the hands of their toddlers, the overworked waitresses at Nino's, the schoolchildren of Mountain View High, and even the raven boys of Aglionby Academy. It belonged to Gansey, and to Blue, to quests and maps and friendships.Henrietta at night was a very different kingdom. The impenetrable sky was starless and endless and fearless, nightmares and fantasies became inseparable. Anything became everything became nothing, time was eternal and so was life.Or, Ronan takes Adam to one of Kavinsky's substance parties.





	Mutually-Assured Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> I just cannot get the Raven Cycle out of my system. I don't want to anymore, can I just live in that world forever? Honestly, the amount of fan fiction I've been writing for it, I almost am living there. 
> 
> Mind the warnings: I don't think this is anything worse than what's actually the books (although people say fuck rather more) but yeah, Kavinsky is his own warning. The fact that's an actual tag will never fail to amuse me! 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was night time in Monmouth Manufacturing, but no one was asleep. Ronan was pacing back and forth in his room, restless and relentless. Chainsaw flapped off her perch, but he brushed her away with the gentleness he reserved for his dream-things. 

"Get away, bird," he said. She cawed indignantly, but he ignored her. 

He didn't want to hear Gansey any more, murmuring softly to himself as he cut squares of cardboard for his model Henrietta. If he did, the thought of the fight he was craving rose up in his throat and choked him, and Gansey knew him too well not to notice. He couldn't have Gansey know, not tonight. This night smelt like gasoline and desire, and burned like both. He was aflame. 

_Kavinsky._ The thought felt like sacrilege, tasted like betrayal. 

He _wanted_ this. That was the betrayal, always had been, always would be. He wanted this, he hungered for this stalemate to end, the fire to catch, the storm to break. He was ready for this fight, and he _wanted._

He wrenched his door open. Gansey looked up from his little circle of golden light, a smudge of paint on his cheek, a paintbrush in his hand. He held Ronan's gaze for a moment, and, just for a moment, Ronan thought he was going to say something, do something, get up and come with him. But then Gansey looked away, and with shame adding to the burning fire inside him, Ronan stormed out of Monmouth Manufacturing. 

Outside, the night was sullen, a brooding, restless dark. He put his hands against the cool metal of the BMW, and tried to steady his heartbeat.

"Ronan?" 

He looked up to see Adam standing on the doorstep of Monmouth. He looked tired, but Ronan recognised the signs of unwilling wakefulness in his eyes. 

"Parrish," he said shortly, turning back to the car. "What are you doing here?" 

"Couldn't sleep. Figured someone up here would be awake." His Henrietta accent was always more present at night, as if it didn't count after dark had fallen. 

"You guessed it. Gansey's up, go bother him." 

"Where're you going?" Adam said, narrowing his eyes. 

It was easy to underestimate Adam, with his dusty, elegant beauty. He looked removed, one not of this world, uncanny, ethereal. He was all golds and browns, sun-faded, fragile. But if you looked closer, you saw that beneath the surface-- hidden, but only barely-- Adam was a wild animal, hungry and angry, ready to lash out. Dangerous in the way a forest fire was dangerous-- beautiful, terrifying, remorseless, unstoppable. Ronan revelled in it, the way he revelled in the smell of tires on hot tarmac, the snarl of an engine, the sound of wild laughter from across a highway. 

"Where are you going, Lynch?" Adam asked again. 

_Ronan Lynch doesn't lie._ He could have said _nowhere,_ and it would have been the truth, or _anywhere_ or _why the hell do you care_ , but he didn't. "I'm looking for a fight," he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "You want in?"

Adam looked at him for a long, serious second. He seemed to be waiting for Ronan to retract the offer, but when he didn't, he said " _Fuck_ yes." The words sounded dirty in his mouth, and Ronan smacked his palm against the BMW. 

"Let's go find some trouble," he said, and Adam's smile could have burnt down the world. 

 

***

The sky stretched on forever, and the stars burned, fanned by the hot, dusty breeze. 

"Where's the party, then?" Adam said, dangling a hand out of the open window. 

"Abandoned parking lot, just out of town."

"Kavinsky?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"I know what you do when you're in this mood."

"You don't like him," Ronan said. It wasn't a question, but Adam answered anyway. 

"He's a bastard. But," he mirrored Ronan's wicked grin, "We're looking for trouble, right? I might get to punch him in the nose." 

"He'd probably be into that." 

Adam shrugged. "Of course. Will he mind that I'm here?" 

"Will the answer change your mind about going?"

"No. It's his problem, not mine."

Ronan clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, Parrish. He'll probably be too drugged up to care about anything." 

The rules of Kavinsky's substance parties dictate you should bring your own substances along, and at that moment, with the streetlights reflecting off his face and the wind in his hair, Adam Parrish seemed like one hell of a drug. 

Ronan suddenly didn't think he wanted Kavinsky even seeing, let alone being able to touch Adam, but he knew he wouldn't be able to explain his change of heart to Adam, so he focused back on the road. Adam wasn't fragile, not like that. He could damn well take care of himself. And the fact that Ronan would fight any battle on the goddamn earth for Adam fucking Parrish was completely irrelevant. 

***

During the day, Henrietta belonged to its people. The parents holding the hands of their toddlers, the overworked waitresses at Nino's, the schoolchildren of Mountain View High, and even the raven boys of Aglionby Academy. It belonged to Gansey, and to Blue, to quests and maps and friendships.

Henrietta at night was a very different kingdom. The impenetrable sky was starless and endless and fearless, nightmares and fantasies became inseparable. Anything became everything became nothing, time was eternal and so was life. 

For all of history, people have searched for the secret to immortality. No one has ever succeeded, but if they'd gone down to the abandoned parking lot and heard the shouts and seen the fires, maybe they would have found their answer: when time has no meaning, every moment lasts forever. 

Once, Ronan had been afraid of how well he could have fit in here, with this crowd of broken kids with ripped up skin and bleeding hearts. If he'd wanted too-- and God, sometimes he'd wanted too-- he could have disappeared here, dropped right off the radar of daytime life. Here, he could have been, _would_ have been a king.

The things that had stopped him could be counted on one hand-- Gansey, Matthew, Monmouth Manufacturing, his BMW. Noah's look of fear whenever Ronan came home covered in blood or bruises. 

He still came here, though. It wasn't something that he could burn out of his system. He'd tried. He always ended up coming back.

He swung the car around onto the tarmacked lot. The sound of the engine was barely audible over the roar of the bonfire and the _crunch_ of metal hitting metal. The air smelt like anticipation and adrenaline. 

Adam looked out at the mess. "Goddamn," he breathed.

"I know," Ronan agreed. Adam _understood_ , and that was all that mattered. 

Someone rapped on the window, and Ronan looked out. It was Kavinsky, a bottle in his hand. He had ash streaked under his eyes like war paint. 

"Hey, asshole," he purred. "Didn't think you'd dare show your fucking face."

"Watch it," Ronan replied. "This fucking face always shows. And I brought a guest." 

"Oh yeah? Which of Dick's little pets wanted to come down here, then? I never thought it was their scene." He leaned across and saw Adam. "Well well well. Adam fucking Parrish. Never thought I'd see you here."

"And I never thought I'd be here," Adam replied coolly. "Times change."

"The fuck they do. It's always the same down here-- if you want something, you've got to bring something. Fuck everything else. And with looks like yours, I mean literally."

"Yeah, yeah," Ronan said. "We get it. Fuck off, K."

"Got better company out here anyway. Get your asses out here-- I've got a few surprises I wanna burn. You'll see the sparks for miles." He slammed his fist against the car, and left, disappearing into the smoky darkness. 

Adam made fists on his lap. "I hate that guy." 

"He wants to fuck you," Ronan said, because he had never been able to resist picking at wounds. 

"Yeah, I got that, thanks," Adam replied dryly. He shot a sideways look at Ronan. "You ready to go fuck shit up?"

"You fucking bet." 

They got out of the car, and walked into the chaos, ready to make the night their own. Together, they were kings.

**Author's Note:**

> I am tempted to write a sequel for this, actually. Am I lonely and writing angst to make up for it? Of course not, whatever gave you that idea?
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome, they really do make me happy. It doesn't matter whether they're long or short, hearing anything from you guys is lovely :D


End file.
